In the Blink of an Eye
by SmittenxKitten
Summary: This is the story of Maeglin, the first female aristh. Not that any one KNOWS that. Yet. But when you're posing as a boy, it complicates things when you fall for another cadet! This is her story, and it can easily result in a not-so-happy ending.
1. I should have been a boy

**In the Blink of an Eye**

Smitten x Kitten

((Author's note: It's been a very long time since I've taken a look at this story; however, it's sparked my interest once again! I've revamped it some. Hopefully I'll be more faithful about updating this time around. Also, I changed my penname! It seemed a little silly to have a plural name when it was only I, one writer, again.. soo.. without further ado..

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own anything to do with the Animorphs. That, my friends, would be stealing, which is unethical!))

_My fever was raging. Blood scorched through my veins, searing my mind, throbbing and aching with every struggling heartbeat. My yamphut gland was swollen with disease particles, near the bursting point. Death's frozen caress wasn't far off now; I could feel it. An eerie cold crept through my soul as my fever raged, desperately, vainly attempting to flush out the deadly virus._

_The sun mocked my fate, dappling its cruel rays on me through the pines of what the humans call the Rocky Mountains. Weakness prevented me from reaching the cool shade of my scoop; I'd collapsed only hoofsteps away from it._

_I'd been destined to die from the very start; the men had seen to that. Alone, on an alien planet so far from home, no one would ever know the truth. _

_The men would say I died in action, a casualty. How easy I would be to pass off, just another lost soul in the cruel war between Andalites and Yeerks! Worse, I would be used as proof that women were of no use in the Andalite Military. Women were weak. Women were unfit for battle._

_And one I agreed with: Women were fools. Or at least, this one was._

_The truth of their evil deeds would be lost to the intangible, invisible pages of history._

_Distantly, I felt my body convulse as the frigid peace swept through my flaming body. In spite of my cowardice, in spite of my many, many mistakes, I had no regrets, although.. I would have liked to taste the magnificent blue "cotton candy" (as the humans called it) once more. _

_As my stalk eyes fluttered shut, the wonderful images of the humans' tasty treats were replaced by more distant memories.. Where the seeds of my destiny were sown. _

--

How I loved to run!

I could feel my innards bubble with joy as my four hooves connected solidly with the grass beneath them, kicking up brown clouds of dirt in my wake. A warm breeze rippled my violet fur, and the scent of the good, sweet grass my hooves crushed filled my nostrils. I ran with the innocent freedom and joy that only a child could feel during those dark times.

The emerging threat of the Yeerks' spread throughout our galaxy was no concern of mine! Today was too glorious of a day to worry about such distant matters! Sunlight bathed my flank in a golden light, making the silky strands gleam with the dewey sheen of my perspiration. Far off, the distant cries of a Kaffit bird loudly rebuking its young chimed like the tinkling of bells. It was the sound of joy, of freedom... and of life.

Fatigue pulled on my legs, urging my conscious to stop, rest, but I knew I could not! Already, the looming dark shadow of my pursuer was gaining on me! Adrenaline made my fur stand on edge as I attempted valiantly to move, faster, faster! My hooves dug into the rich earth as my lungs caught fire. I was swift, but not swift enough.

The dark menace grew until suddenly his muscular arms encircled my torso. No!

I attempted to squirm away, lashing out with my tiny scalpel that passed as a tail blade. It clanged lightly against my enemy's, glancing off the side of the massive scythe. No! It could not be! I struck again and again, each time expertly countered until he'd wrestled my tail in the submissive posture beneath my belly. His voice echoed inside my head, mocking me, laughing at my plight.

(Ha! I have caught you, Maeglin. Surrender, and halt your pitiful attempts to flee, for you are now my prisoner!)

I briefly considered struggling, but he had an iron grip, and besides, I was tired. I turned, nuzzling my face into the solid chest as he swept my tiny figure up into his arms. At that age, I was still small enough to be held and cradled.

(Let me go, Nelium. I'm much too sweet to be your captive!) My voice held a hint of whiney protest.

When he didn't immediately release me, I glared at him. Nelium, my brother, smiled warmly at my pout with his stalk eyes.

(Oh no! What a predicament I am in!) An expression of contemplation crossed his countenance before a sly gleam reflected in his eyes. He drew out a heavy sigh, as if he regretted what he was about to say. (However, rules of engagement clearly state that when the victor has acquired a resistive captive, they may bring out their secret weapon of destruction.)

(I've never heard of that before,) I stated stubbornly, squirming against his heavily muscled chest.

(Oh, I believe you have,) Suddenly, Nelium plunked me on the ground, and much to my horror, brought out his "secret weapon".

Peels of laughter rippled through all minds close enough to hear. My brother's fourteen fingers flew over me, hitting every one of my most ticklish spots with practiced ease. No! It was then that I realized what the weapon must have been... and it was worse than any torture my young mind had conjured up!

(No! Nelium! Cease and desist at once! Nelium!) His fingers hesitated briefly when I kicked at him and actually managed to connect my hoof solidly with the side of his face.

Now was my chance! Maneuvering my four hooves beneath me as quickly as I could manage, I leapt up at him and he allowed me to tackle him to the ground. Although I attempted to inflict the same tickling torture on him, he was not nearly as sensitive as I, so instead I leapt to my feet and bounded off as swiftly as my legs would carry me.

Eventually, he caught me and we tumbled onto the sweet grass together. I gazed up at the cloudless sky, gasping heavily beside him.

(Young one, you've been graced with exceptional agility. In a few years, I won't be able to match you!) Oh, wouldn't that be a joyous day? To be able to outrun a full-grown warrior? I shivered with delight at his praise. Unfortunately, his next words weren't quite so lovely. (It's a shame you weren't born a male. You could have gone to the academy, become a warrior.)

I stiffened in his arms... His comment stung. All my life, I'd lived in Nelium's shadow; my father had wanted another male so badly.

All Andalite parents wanted male children. The Yeerk war was taking its toll; soon the ratio of women to men would be 3 to 1, with a growing gap.

I was supposed to have been a boy. Father had taken all the right herbs to promote that Y chromosome, had seen countless doctors to ensure that success, had even bought a few charms (something very frowned upon in this age of science), and yet.. here I was. Chromosome matched XX.

I'd accepted my parents stoic demeanor toward me, their covertly hostile insinuations. This was my life, this was what I knew. But this? Coming from Nelium? My hearts suddenly felt heavy within my breast, and a flash of guilty anger seized me.

It just wasn't fair.

It'd always been so easy for Nelium. He'd made it through the academy with outstanding achievements and awards for his strength and bravery. He had honored mother and father.

Me? I was a mere child. A _female_ child. I didn't even have the option.

Instead of wrestling with my father and learning the ways of combat and warfare, I'd been steered toward the more _delicate_ arts. The _useless_ arts. I'd begun training as a morph dancer, and, despite my talent, had barely won more than a grunt of approval from my war-hardened parents.

I enjoyed my dancing, I really did, but I longed to fight alongside my brother, to see the way my parents would stiffen their shoulders with pride, lift their tails a little higher as I valiantly battled Yeerk scum. In my fanciful games, I was an Andalite warrior, sailing across the galaxy, my brother leading the way.

Unfortunately, as I would eventually discover, war is not so fanciful.

Before I could muster a response that would conceal my wounded pride, Nelium suddenly sat up and peered thoughtfully in the direction of our scoop. Sure enough, another Andalite was tearing towards us, eyes ablaze. My brother leapt to his feet, tumbling me none-too-gracefully to the hard, unwelcoming ground. Geiast, my Nelium's shorm, was fast approaching, and was practically leaping with excitement.

Irritated at having been so easily forgotten, I shuffled to my hooves and glared menacingly at Geiast. As I stood there, waiting impatiently to be acknowledged, I realized that they were involved in a private thought-spoken conversation. They'd left me out!

My hands fisted indignantly. I arched my tail as high and prominently as I could, attempting to make myself a presence to the two full grown warriors in front of me, wanting to be included. How could he just leave me out like that?!

It was probably because I was a _female_.

When I still hadn't elicited a response, I snorted childishly and pawed at the ground.

Nelium suddenly looked down at me, clearly thrilled. (Maeglin, I must leave. Immediately. I've been called upon once more to fight!) He flexed his tail importantly, his chest puffed out and he placed his hand on my shoulder. (Stay safe, my Sister.) Before I could utter a protest, he departed without another word, heading for our scoop.

(Nelium! Again? Wait, Nelium, come back!) I called after him, but it was no use. I remained where I stood, riveted in place. It was true that it was rare a warrior get time off, but I had thought that since he had recently received it, he would have been home for a more extended length of time.

Wrong. Rage clawed at my hearts as I stared at his retreating figure. The Yeerk war was pulling apart my family. My tail quivered before I slammed it against the ground.

Ow! I cradled my injured tail against my body, stroking it where it throbbed. His words mocked me.

_It's a shame you weren't born a male..._

I stared at our scoop a long time, fighting back the stinging prick of tears.

A male wouldn't cry.

Despite this thought, the liquid I so despised trickled down my cheeks in tiny rivulets. Nelium eventually emerged from the scoop with Geiast, and ran towards the horizon where a tiny spacecraft was settling down to the ground.

He didn't look back.

--

_Sounds suddenly assaulted my ears from all directions, and there was a voice in my head! _No.. make it stop.. make the noise stop...!_ Colors swirled around me, blurring the mutating, monstrous shapes rising from the earth all around me. Were these the hellions here to claim my tainted soul?_

_Peace... I longed for peace..._

How different things would have been, if only I'd been born a male.


	2. Tail Envy

**In the Blink of an Eye**

Smitten x Kitten

_Why wouldn't they go away? Those horrible, horrible sounds, the voices in my head.. G_o away... just go away. Let me die in peace, in my own worthless, pathetic filth. Prince Damoli was right... we are weak! I am sorry, my brother.

_I faded out of consciousness; however, blissful silence eluded me._

--

The screaming _had_ to stop. I watched mutely as the officer attempted to console my mother. The emotions that crumpled her body into a sobbing heap barely touched me. Mother seemed to fall in slow motion, and as her knees hit the ground, the last trembling supports holding our family together shattered. How long had it been since we'd been together, all four of us?

Years. It'd been years since that fateful day upon the grassy knolls of our scoop's meadow. Now.. well, now he was dead. So was my father.

Killed in the _glory_ of battle.

My mother's countenance was wet with her agony. The retired officer held her in a polite embrace, patting her shoulder gently. I watched the scene, strangely unmoved but for a strange emptiness flooding through me.

How many nights had I waited, wondering how long it'd be until I'd see my brother's face again? How many notices of leave had they been given, only to be denied?

There were too many to count.

Upon the eve that the Hork-Bajir world had been lost, the death count of the men had spiked, growing exponentially. As men died and the Yeerks spread to overtake multiple worlds at once, our Military could no longer meet the overwhelming demands of the war.

We Andalites were spread too thin.

In spite of the deaths, in spite of the shortage of able-bodied, morph capable men, the military had refused to even consider the thousands of females lining up to replace the fallen.

The fools.

Perhaps if they'd let go of their ridiculous traditions, if they'd instead looked to the future, if they'd not been quite so arrogant, Nelium would have come home to tickle me once more in my youth, and my father and mother could have produced the second son they'd wanted so desperately.

(He died bravely, destroyed many yeerks,) the officer was saying. (He'd just been made a Prince.)

To my growing disgust, my mother's eyes curved, smiling through her tears.

Among the Andalites, there is no greater honor than to die serving your people. To die, serving, as a Prince? It was beyond glory. He would be immortal, one of the many great icons of our people.

Why wasn't I happy?

As I watched the jaded officer console my mother with that absurd propaganda, I silently slipped out of our scoop. Before I knew it, my hooves were digging into the mud, and I was bathed in the heavy rain that had greeted us this morning.

The weather matched my mood. High overhead, a cloud artist was weaving her magic with the deep emerald clouds and golden bolts of electricity. The pattern was elegant, graceful; she was so very talented.

But when had that ridiculous, feminine "occupation" ever left a lasting mark upon our world? When had it saved a life? When had it made some sort of minuscule difference in the universe?

My lungs were on fire as I tried to outrun the growing emptiness in my hearts, but I didn't care. I had to get away, away from my mother, our scoop, the war. It seemed as the the entire Andalite world knew of my grief and acknowledged it with pounding rain, violent clattering, and flashes of blinding light.

My fur was plastered to my body, my eyelids beginning to glue shut from the sticky, adhesive quality of my tears. I turned my face to the rain, wishing it would wash away the war, my brother's death, my mother's tearful smile.

Despite our technological superiority over the Yeerks, there were simply too many of them. No Andalite readily acknowledged this weakness, but now... our family was torn apart at the seams. I, at least, could no longer even attempt to avoid the truth and lies that the Andalite military had been feeding us.

They should have let the women fight.

Nelium was probably happy in the black abyss of death; better to die than face infestation, he would have said.

I didn't agree: At least with infestation, you had hope.. you had a chance. You could somehow, someway, fight. Death? Well.. you had a very, very long time to be dead.

I stumbled into the raging stream before I realized how far I'd run. The bitterly cold liquid jolted me, and I leapt out of the swirling current before it could snatch me off my feet and carry me to join my brother and father in the beyond.

Shivering, I turned all four of my eyes to the sky. Logically, I knew that my temperature was dropping at an alarming rate, but I honestly didn't care. The emptiness in me was slowly turning into a red haze of animosity.

I'd hated the Yeerks from the time the war had taken my brother and father away from me. Now, that rage seeped over into the dislike I'd so valiantly tried to suppress for the Andalite Military. Without the cause, there can be no related deaths: without the stupidity of archaic traditions, there can be no related deaths. The two went hand in hand.

It was as much the Military's fault as the Yeerks.

I was a half-grown Andalite female, about the age males begin their serious training... But I wouldn't train. I could accomplish nothing, because I was a girl.

_Maybe you can learn to dazzle the Yeerks with your morph dancing,_ I sneered at myself and at the pathetic artist weaving above my head.

But as a female, my tail blade was tiny; how could I possibly give the Yeerks tail-envy without a massive scythe?! That's all it really was to the males of our society: Tail-envy. Because with only our delicate scalpals, females couldn't "put some tail into those Yeerks!"

As far as the Andalite military was concerned, I probably wasn't even capable of stepping oh-so-daintily on Yeerk scum properly.

_If only I were a male._

(Is there a reason you're intruding on an intimate grazing session or are you just passing by?) A bored voice resonated faintly in my head.

In the distance, our neighbor fed. I'd crossed into his family's territory. His name was Prince Damoli-Seerow-Escatur, born during the time when Prince Seerow had been a legend; we'd all been surprised when he hadn't petitioned to change that curse word. His powerful frame had been badly scarred by Dracon fire, and he wore his permanent badge with honor. I'd always kept my distance, for not only was he a powerful advocator of a males-only military, something I despised, he was not what someone would call friendly.

(No, sir.) I muttered. My knees were quaking with cold, and although the last thing I wanted to do was get drawn into a conversation with one of the men who was, in my opinion, directly responsible for my brother and father's deaths, I didn't want to pass back through the raging stream that separated our lands.

He drew nearer, and I felt anger rise sharply in my breast; he was the officer who'd convinced my brother to enlist. Not that Nelium needed convincing, really, but he'd been his mentor in our earlier years. He'd nudged him in the "right direction".

(I recognize you. You danced in last week's show.) He laughed, a jeering, bitter sound. (Quite the stumble we had, hmm?)

(Yes.) I said curtly, then turned and prepared to return to my scoop.

(Your Nelium's sister.) His expression softened a bit. As if he actually gave a damn that my brother was dead, and that it was partially his fault. (You have my deepest sympathies.)

(Thank you, sir.) I said with complete insincerity. The offending undertone resonated within our minds, causing the retired vet to stiffen. I swiftly turned to leave, I regarded him with only one stalk-eye, an unintentional, unspoken insult.

Mistake.

(Come here.) He barked, his sympathies evaporatin as he stalked toward me. The anger in his voice spoke of his wounded pride. I ignored him, breaking into a trot in the direction of my mother's scoop. He stood for a moment in disbelief, seemingly dumbfounded by my refusal to halt and cower at his feet.

The first thing they teach you at the military academy: Do **not** disobey a direct order from a War Prince, even one retired. Having never been the academy, I had ignorant to this rule.

Before I knew what had hit me, I was on my knees in the mud.

(How dare you,) he hissed, using the razor edge of his tail blade to tilt my face into the downpour. He wasn't threatening me, not really. But he definitely had my attention. (Do you know who I am?)

Unfortunately, out of a grief born of years of unfulfilled waiting, I'd temporarily lost my mind. At least, that's what I like to think. Perhaps I was simply tired of being treated like.. well, like an insignificant girl in a world dominated by men, or perhaps I was simply mad, but I couldn't seem to control my rising temper.

(Of course I do,) my eyes curved into a bold smile. (Why, you are War Prince Damoli-_Seerow_-Escatur of the Andalite Military and now of the Universal Senate.) I sneered. I felt my face grow hot as he stared at me in shocked silence, obviously completely unused to a feminine display of bravado. It was a rush like I'd never felt, the fear, anger, and pain all rolled into one powerful drug that had me acting completely irrational.(Tell me,) I taunted insolently, leaning into his blade. (Was it hatred of your wife that kept you from voting for the Women's Military Initiation Act, or the fear that a _female_ would best you at tail-fighting? Tail-envy with a female, _Seerow?_)

I knew I'd pushed it too far with that last insult. His tail blade flashed as he slammed the side of my head with the flat of his massive scythe.

(As you have demonstrated in your complete lack of self control, _females _do not belong in the academy.) I crumpled to my side, my head swimming with the impact. (Insolent little fool.) He pawed at the ground by my face, throwing dirt into my eyes. (Females are weak. Females are insolent. Females lack the character required for the males' job. _Females _are incompetent. Females are no matches for men.) Prince Damoli stepped over my crumpled form with disdain, as if I'd tainted the putrid mud I was laying in, and began walking in the direction of his scoop. After a moment, he paused.

(Your father is lucky to have died before he discovered what a disgraceful swine he had for a daughter.) He sniffed haughtily, then left me to shiver in the rain.

My skull ached from the crack he'd given me and my bewilderment and utter humiliation. Insane with grief or no, it'd not been the greatest idea to taunt a medalled War Prince.

Head swirling, I slowly got to my feet, staring hard where he stood, about to enter his distant scoop. His words had brought my hatred of the all-male military to a fever pitch; I was boiling. As my hearts thundered in my chest, I threw back my head and roared to him, the heavens, to anyone who would listen.

(You'll see! _Everyone_ will see that females are just as good as men! I'll be a legend that even surpasses _you!_)

Oh, they would see. Every male who thought that females weren't strong enough would see._ I _would be the one to show them.

((A.N.--Thank you four for your reviews! I have finals coming up in the next two-three days, so it'll be at least that long for the next update, but I have a definite idea of where this story is headed. **Also, did anyone get the tail-envy reference? Because.. I thought that was kind of funny.. xD**

Quillian--I'm glad you think so!

Chinmayi--Ahaha, I hadn't even thought of that nickname for her, but now I think I'm going to have to steal it. As for the monstrous shapes rising, yep, that'd be them. I wanted there to be a reason they hadn't discovered her in the original series, so.. well, basically this story and The Invasion: Again? will be overlapping.

Korean Pearl--Hmm, I think you're right about the dialogue. The Andalites really only talk in condescending tones and high-end language to humans.. at least.. I think. I don't have either the Andalite Chronicles or the Hork-Bajir to be sure. Hopefully I casualized it a bit more to the books' style.

M&M--For chapter two, I wanted to plant the seed of joining the academy, aka the motive as to why Mae(heehee!) would do what she's about to do as opposed to just reacting a lifetime of discrimination that she's probably used to, as are the rest of the women. I figure the above did the trick!

Thank you all again so much for reviewing! I have a definite idea where this story is going, so.. I should be updating fairly frequently.))


	3. I'm here for the handsome men

**In the Blink of an Eye**

Smitten x Kitten

Every little girl's dream was about to come true for me; one moon cycle after the news of my brother and father's deaths, I received a rare invitation to attend Devarah's Academy of Technological Performance, the most prestigious Morph Dancing school in existence.

I couldn't have been more indifferent.

Morphing prettily wouldn't bring my brother back.

It was only my mother who made me even consider the idea. Her shriek had given me a sharp headache; I still hadn't quite recovered from the crack Prince Damoli had given me. upon her recognition of the hologram's seal, the first spark of life since we learned of our mens' passing lit her cheeks.

I'd forced my eyes off the Academy Enrollment listings I'd been browsing on our computer and into a smile, then took the disc from her, feigning excitement for her sake. She'd galloped off, eager to share the news with all of our neighbors, that _her_ daughter had been invited to _Devarah's_ school.

It was the first time I could recall her ever being proud of me. Proud, over something that wouldn't even matter.

I could only hope that Prince Damoli wasn't home. As far as I was aware, he hadn't mentioned our little incident to anyone, but if my mother barrelled over there spreading our news, who knew if he'd keep that to himself?

Alone in our scoop, I'd stared down at the ultimate symbol of feminine uselessness, feeling a disgust tinged numbness sweep through me. I couldn't have desired anything less than to be one of Devarah-Lesora-Countille's perfect little morph dancers. As I stared at the glowing, humming disc, my stalk eyes turned to peer at the holographic computer listing.

Desperate for men, boys, simply any able-bodied maleto replace the fallen and pump up their military as the Yeerks spread, they'd set up an open enrollment station in the nearby transportation port. Not that it mattered; I still wouldn't be allowed to even _try_ to make a difference.

Clicking the screen closed, I snorted with frustration.

I wanted to fight. I wanted to prove myself. Most of all, I wanted to prove to every male out there that I was just as good--no--_better_ than they were.

Mother would never let me.

I stared with all four eyes at the intricate design on the disc, halfway wishing that I didn't hate the feminine arts with a passion, wishing that I could be like every other stupid female on this planet. My fingers curled around the invitation with contempt, and I hurled it across our scoop.

Dancing wasn't for me.

I was still in my black mood a few hours later when the idea hit me.

Well, actually, the hologram disc hit me; my mother had found it in the waste disposal system and tossed it at me with a slight air of disdain.

According to the stern gleam in her eye, I was going to the school no matter how I might feel about it. As I rubbed the back of my head in annoyance, preparing myself for verbal battle, I stopped suddenly.

An idea, brilliant as the sun, exploded in my brain._ I could go.. oh, and she'd never even know!_ Sparing a quick glance at my mother, excitement began to tingle in my veins.

Nothing was going to stop me from joining the Academy. Nothing.

* * *

This was _so _not how I'd imagined my day would be when I'd awoken this morning.

My pulse beat feverishly against the razor blade pressed sharply against my throat. Tightly pinned against the massive hull of the ship behind me, every thump of my hearts threatened the delicate flesh of my vein, cutting in a little deeper with every throb. I felt my fur stand on edge as triumph blazed in my opponent's slanted eyes.

As a chorus of mocking laughter rang in my head, I glared angrily at the adolescent males surrounding me, trying to fight off the panic of the claustrophobia I was encountering.

How had I ended up pinned against an Andalite fighter?

I'd barely been able to sleep the night before; anticipation mixed with apprehension had tingled at my conscious until the soft rays of the morning sun had peaked over our meadow. I'd rushed my morning ritual, barely stopping to graze. My excitement resonated through the air.

I promised my mother I'd work hard and not to expect me to stay in close contact.

(Dancing is hard, time consuming work,) I'd stated vehemently, unable to meet her eyes. (I'll try to send word every now and then, but don't be surprised if I don't.)

Upon boarding the tiny ship that would take me to the Transportation Port, pangs of guilt assaulted me, pangs that I quickly buried under my thrilled anticipation. My mother nodded her goodbye, a small, sad smile on her countenance. Too well, I remembered how different she'd looked when my brother went off to fight, how straight she'd stood with pride in every rigid muscle, which only bolstered my resolve.

If only she knew.

I'd leapt out of the vessel the moment it touched ground, stopping only to toss the Captain an assortment of sweet herbs from our meadow as payment, and took off gleefully.

I was supposed to board the brilliantly glowing ship that would take me to Devarah's academy; I headed instead toward the adolescents lined up in front of the gleaming silver fighter, the _Semitur_.

At my approach, their easy conversation stopped as one by one, they all turned to stare.

_So what if I'm female?_ I told myself defiantly, feeling edgy. _I'll reason some sense into them!_

As I sidled up to the end of the line leading into the ship, I had their full attention. I was a slender, stream-lined youth who was, by the violet tinge to her fur and her dainty little tail blade, just about as feminine as a female could get. The young males looked at me with puzzlement which turned quickly into amusement as I stood stoically beside them in line.

I couldn't help but fidget, uncomfortable with the unpleasant attention.

Bewildered and somewhat amazed, the boys had focused eight sets of eyes on me while the other eight stalks wove back and forth, making it obvious they were all speaking excitedly in private thought speech.

Awkward.

I pawed the ground the ground but refused to avert my eyes.

I would _not_ let them intimidate me. They couldn't ruffle _my _feathers.

Or so I thought, anyway.

A snicker vibrated through my brain, and my other stalk swiveled against my will to rest on the offending Andalite. He was larger than the typical male our age, sporting broad shoulders, powerful hindquarters, and had a definite air of arrogance resonating around him.

He stepped toward me, rudely assessing my petite frame with a strong air of arrogance.

(Are you perhaps... lost?)

I bristled at his condescending tone.

(No, I'm right where I mean to be,) I told him, refusing to acknowledge his presence with anything other than my stalks.

(Ah,) he said, exchanging a look with his buddies. (Surrounded by handsome men?) The other males guffawed loudly as he flexed his tail, rippling the muscles up it in a show of ridiculous macho-ism.

In spite of his obnoxious attitude, he _was_ handsome. Exceptionally built with a crescent moon tail blade that gleamed in the morning sun, he was not lacking in the manliness department. But truly, it was his eyes that got me; exotically slanted with ebony irises, he had obviously descended from one of the rare moon Andalites. I didn't know much about them, but their dark eyes and chiseled faces were highly prized among Andalites.

Attractive or not, he needed a serious attitude adjustment, and I wasn't about to let him get the best of me.

(Don't flatter yourself. Besides, I'm not your type,) I retorted snidely. (I'm not an interactive computer simulation.) At this, the rest of the military recruits positively roared: the moon Andalite glared, stung by my lewd insult.

Then he called me a name that I won't repeat.

(You say that like it's a bad thing,) I taunted, emboldened by the response I'd gotten out of his comrades. I tilted my head to the side, as if in deep contemplation. (How about this.. I'll try being nicer if you try being smarter?)

(If you have no business here, I suggest you leave.) His voice was flat and smooth like steel, as if he barely held his emotions in check. I glared right back at him.

(I'm in this line, same as you.) I spoke calmly, unruffled by his distinct threat. He gave a curt laugh.

(Females have no place in the Academy,) he stated, echoing Prince Damoli's tone. I bristled, then leaned in close, insolence written all over my stance.

(Well now,) I snickered. (If I agreed with you, we'd both be wrong.)

The arrogant youth lost his temper. He shoved his hand against my torso, sending me reeling and off balance.

I feinted away from him as I tried to regain my footing, then leapt through the air in a neat twirl to land daintily on my feet. All my training as a morph dancer had given me a decent sense of grace and agility.

Most of the time.

(What, are those stuffy old war officers actually _encouraging _you to beat up girls?) I asked incredulously, rubbing at my throbbing shoulder. That would probably leave a bruise.

(I thought you wanted to join the Academy, little girl.) he sneered, turning away from me. (But, as I thought, you're just a delicate flower.)

I suppose having been raised with only my timid mother to push around had bolstered my confidence to an unwise level.

(Why you arrogant, conceited--)

I rushed him, tail blade flashing. Much to my pleasure, I got him.

I _got _him! I'd knicked his shoulder pretty good. Me! A girl with no training!

I didn't have long to preen over my accomplishment. The sight of his blood trickling down his arm, a wound, inflicted by a girl, proved to be too much for his wounded pride.

He came at me, his tail a blur.

Artfully, I reared into the air, moving in graceful twirls and turns, allowing his blades to whisk by me, slicing fur and fur only, taunting him further--after all, there was more to morph dancing than simply morphing, and I was doing a damned good job of making him look like a clumsy oaf.

I could hear the other soon-to-be-_arisths _shouting encouragement, egging us on. Oooh, I'd give them a show. As I dodged another of the blustering male's attacks, I launched myself into the air, arching my back and reaching for my tail, tucking my legs close to my body in an elegant flip.

What I didn't count on was the wall I smashed into.

Andalites hate enclosed spaces. In all my time dancing, I'd always practiced in open fields or on open stages, not docking stations.

Unfortunately, this was a skill I didn't yet possess.

In my arrogance, I'd smashed headfirst against the gleaming metal hull of the _Semitur_.

And that's how I ended up with a razor-sharp blade pressed tightly against my neck, crowded by a too-large adolescent male against the massive hull of the ship, struggling with my growing sense of claustrophobic panic.

His eyes glowed like dark coals in his rage as he pinned me, chest against chest, tail blade at my throat. Heat resonated off his chiseled flesh in waves. His proximity was completely unacceptable.

I glared defiantly into the depths of his onyx eyes, and pressed my neck into his blade, daring him to-

(_What is the meaning of this foolery?!_) A voice raged in our heads.

* * *

((A.N.--Yay! My toughest final is over.

The interactive computer simulation was supposed to be like the "Oh, I'm not your type, I'm not inflatable" comeback. I'm not sure it worked, but we'll pretend that it does unless you can think of something else for me to put in there!

Anyway, I felt this chapter started off a little slow, but overall, it turned out better than I anticipated. I can't wait to get started on the next one!

K.P.--I hadn't even thought of that! But now that you've mentioned it, I have a distinct idea of just how to put her in touch with her femininity.

M&M--I think she might have just sounded like a big, bad B-word. Of course, she was just bristling over a pig-headed not-yet-Aristh kid being a jerk, but.. oh well.

Quillian-- It's only going to get better, I promise.))


	4. This was a bad idea

**In the Blink of an Eye**

Smitten x Kitten

(_What is the meaning of this foolery?!_)

At the sudden booming voice in my head, I jerked slightly, nicking my neck on Mr. Tough-Guy's tail blade. _Ow._ His stalk swiveled swiftly to see what I could not through his massive frame, and he suddenly released me, his arrogance dissipating into shame. My many fingers clamped over the stinging wound at my throat as anxiousness flooded me.

_Boy, am I in for it now._

An officer roughly shouldered roughly through my opponent, practically vibrating with anger.

(_Fighting! _In _public_!) he roared, shoving the youth in front of me roughly. (Making a _mockery_ of the Andalite Mili-)

That's about when he caught sight of me. Both stalk eyes swiveled as he shoved the kid out of the way, looking first at my elegant feminine features, then at the dark rivulet of blood trickling through my fingers.

I'm not sure what I expected, but it was _not _the venomous stare he leveled at the boy. The silence in our heads was more frightening than if he'd begun throwing his tail about and blustering his rage.

With a gentle gruffness that seemed out of place in such a hardened warrior, he pulled my fingers from my neck, examining the small cut. It was superficial at most, for it was only skin that had broken, no veins, arteries, or anything else important. Seemingly satisfied with my condition, he turned to face the boy, towering over him.

(Your name?) He barked, seething. Incredulously, I watched. Was I not in trouble?

(Damonio, sir,) he quaked miserably. I felt a haughty smirk settling over my countenance. It was kind of fun watching the big bad boy quiver, shake, and deflate! (Damonio-Escafil-Synthil.)

(Trying to prove your manliness to your friends, Damonio?) He jerked his hand at the other boys, who were now deathly quiet. (On_ a girl?!_)

Poor Damonio was turning a distinct shade of green.

(No, sir. I-)

(You what?) The great Andalite's pupils narrowed to mere slits as he advanced on the boy. I almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

(She's trying to join the Academy, sir!) He exclaimed, obviously attempting to deflect some of the warrior's wrath onto me. I cringed, hating the way I felt the absurdity of the statement wash over me.

_She_ wants to join the Academy.

Unfortunately for the youth, this only seemed to provoke the man more.

(And this angered you so much, that you attacked her?) He asked coldly, tail flicking dangerously. (Are you so easily provoked?)

I was momentarily shocked. I had expected laughter, ridicule, a smile, _something, _but no.

(No, sir. But she-)

(I should have you banned from the Academy for this travesty.) He barked.

He looked him up and down, obviously deciding the poor kid's fate. It would serve him right, getting kicked out of the Academy before he even joined. I stiffened my shoulders, fighting the smile that threatened to break across my eyes. I knew he wouldn't send the boy packing, but still, watching the terror in his eyes soothed my stung pride a bit. That would teach him!

(Attacking another cadet is bad enough,) He growled, his face inches from the terrified youth's. (But a female? You fought a _female?_) he gave him a hard shove. I bristled at his comment. (For shame, boy. Bullying weaker opponents will _not_ make you a_-_)

(_I am not!_) I cried, unable to restrain myself. Immediately, I regretted it. (I am not weaker..) I repeated, with much less gusto.

The officer glared daggers at me, shoving past Damonio. He stumbled backward, looking shaken and infinitely relieved.

_Uh oh._

I shifted uncomfortably as he looked at me in a silence taut with emotion, and I felt heat touching my cheeks. The air was positively charged with tension.

Why wasn't he saying anything? A knot grew heavy in my stomach, a solid ball of dread.

All of the soon-to-be cadets were paying rapt attention, especially that bastard Damonio. I spared a glance at them, feeling the pressure of their gazes boaring into me.

Whatever. I had as much of a right to be there as any of them. I took a deep breath, squared my torso, and walked defiantly to the end of the line, aware of the officer's eyes on me with each step I took.

I was greeted with more silence, until..

(..Haha..) the officer's stern visage cracked. He began snorting, the laughter I'd expected earlier breaking over him in waves. He began huffing, his amusement spilling from thought speech to physical, and I could see the gleam of tears hinting at his eyes.

I'd never felt more humiliated, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing it. Despite the flush to my cheeks, I stood straight and tall as the other boys looked smugly at one another.

Damonio, in particular, was looking particularly pleased in spite of his nervousness.

(Hah.. Go home, you silly girl,) the officer stated, the merry amusement in his eyes wounding me ever deeper. (Go home. There is no place for you on our ship.) I hated the jolly glee that had replaced the anger in his eyes. Hell, I almost wished for the rage to come back.

The mere thought of me, a female, stepping up to fight the Yeerks had almost incapacitated him with laughter. Bastard. I should have struck him down as he chortled, helpless to do anything but guffaw at my expense.

(I will not! My brother is _dead_ because of you stupid fools!) I stated, my fists clenched.

Oh no. Pity was creeping into his eyes.

I loathed his compassion. If any of the boys had spoken so impertinently, I highly doubted he'd have an ounce of it for them.

He gently took my shoulder and I allowed him to lead me away from the other boys. (I am sorry for your loss, but you must go home,) he urged. (Men do terrible things in times of war.) He said cryptically. (You wouldn't understand.)

(But I _do _understand, don't you see?) I grabbed his hand and tore it from my shoulder. (I am just as good as you _men_ are, better even!)

(Is that why you were pinned against my ship? With a tail blade against your throat?) He chuckled. (Don't jest.)

(If the ship hadn't been there--)

(Men do horrible things, secluded out in space.) He interrupted in private thought speech, all humor having departed from his tone. (A pretty little thing like you would _not_ want to be in their midst. Trust me.) His voice held a dark meaning that I didn't want to think about. (You do not want to be the lone female aboard a ship crawling with hungry men.)

His eyes held mine a moment longer, before he left me, paralyzed with shock, staring after him. A deep revulsion seized me as his words sunk in; disgusting as they were, I heard the note of truth ringing sickeningly in my head. I watched numbly as he signaled Damonio to follow him as he entered the ship, obviously not through with him yet, leaving the rest of the youths snickering and gossiping about what punishment was in store for their too-bold acquaintence.

Well, damn. I'd been rejected in a way that left me with very little desire to join the Andalite Academy.

Fortunately or unfortunately, the debt I felt I owed my brother far outweighed the threat of brutal rape... and my backup plan, wrong in so many ways and one with so many flaws that I didn't even want to count, would undoubtedly protect me.

They couldn't tell me no--I _would_ join the academy, whether they liked it or not. Whether they _knew_ it or not.

Though shaken, I refused to give up.

I owed my brother that much, at least. I had to try.

With a deep breath, I made up my mind. What I was about to do went against every grain of moral fiber ever ground into me. I was about to break at least three major oaths, if not more. If I were ever discovered, I would lose my tail blade, if not my life. If anything ever happened to me, my mother would never know about it. I'd simply disappear.

But it was the only way.

Taking a deep breath, I put an apologetic smile on my face, forced the doubts into the dark recesses of my hearts, and strode toward the remaining youths waiting to be called inside.

((A.N.--Sorry this took so long. And for the record, **I changed my penname.** I no longer have a co-author, so I decided to go with something new. Anyway..

I struggled for a bit on how to make Mae's backup plan a bit more acceptable. Either way, this is really going to suck for her. I'm also thinking about eventually giving this fic a teen rating.. The more I feel out the characters and what's going to happen, the more I feel there's going to be some sexuality in this. Any thoughts?

Quillian--No problem! Here's another.

Korean Pearl-- I don't want my Andalite to be a sue! In fact, I have a feeling she's going to really suck at fighting. Honestly, it's one thing to be able to jump around all pretty-like; it's quite another to actually, you know, fight back.

Chinmayi--Thanks for the review! I hate enclosed spaces too.

Lucia--Thank you! I'm glad that the reference was understood.. Put that silly boy in his place!

Dark-angel miyuki--Yay originality! I'm really surprised this theme hasn't been done more, personally.

M&M--I have a decently extensive idea of what I want to happen with this story. There's too much that happens to poor Mae for this to end on a lame cliffhanger! Though the next few chapters are going to kind of suck to plow through, to get from one plot point to another.. oh well.

Thanks everyone for your reviews! They're very encouraging.))


	5. Breaking the law

In the Blink of an Eye

**In the Blink of an Eye**  
By: Smitten X Kitten

((Author's Note: This has been heavily, HEAVILY edited so that the content is, you know, actually interesting and entertaining. Hopefully. A little shorter than usual, but I'm struggling here! Actually, this entire story up until this point has been edited for flow and better characterization.. And slowly, this will turn into a romance! ANDALITE Romance! Enjoy!))

It was wrong. It was dangerous. It was without a doubt the most foolish, stupid action I had ever in my young life performed, not to mention completely immoral.

As I discreetly acquired passing youths on the street, the written oaths of Andalite laws echoed heavily in my mind. I combined their DNA, picking out their recessive traits to mask any distinctive characteristics.

And in the privacy of an Andalite waste management center, I began to morph.

Azure fur replaced my violet coat, rippling in graceful, arcing waves.

_Andalite citizens shall not take that of which has not been offered freely._ Like, say, DNA.

My gentle feminine curves gave way to hard, angular muscles.

_Andalite citizens shall not, except under extreme and unavoidable circumstances, take the form of a sentient being without express and documented permission._

Especially other Andalites.

My gentle, petite tail-blade, so elegant and polished, swelled to massive proportions.

_Andalite citizens shall not falsify information regarding their identity._

Or give it to the Military. That was a really, really bad idea.

A slight gurgling sound accompanied a few select innards switching to outtards.

_The Andalite Military is and will be comprised solely of men._

I wasn't really a boy. Not really. It seemed it was my feminine physique more than my mind that had offended the men and made it risky, dangerous even, to join the academy as a female.

I would be in more trouble than I wanted to think about if I got caught.

Finally, the subtle change completed itself. Masculine, brow-defined features replaced my ultra-feminine doe-eyes and my breathing slits slid apart and curved awkwardly.

I'd become a boy. Now.. how in _Elfangor's_ name was I going to pull this off?

In spite of my internal clock urging me to get going, I paused briefly to look into the waste chamber's looking glass to orient myself to my new appearance.

My reflection made me cringe in feminine disgust.

I was one _ugly_ male.

Sure, from the neck down I was acceptable, but my face appeared awkward, as if some bored Ellimist had pieced together a face from spare parts that didn't quite match. Well, actually, I had done that myself, carefully pushing for DNA traits that would not reveal itself in its appearance as to belonging to any one particular Andalite.

I'd obviously been successful, but I was glad I wasn't truly a boy. It would take quite a bit of war honor, riches, land, and possibly a blind female before any one of them would have me in my manly form.

With growing apprehension, I strode into the open on awkward, heavy hooves, in a body comprised of stolen DNA. Morphing into any foreign animal is weird, but being a boy of my own species, well.. that was a different kind of bizarre.

At first, I hadn't noticed much of a difference. I was certainly clumsier and my sense of gravity was distorted, but it wasn't until I passed my first sleek-furred female that I realized exactly why the men didn't want a supple female amidst their ranks.

As I galloped toward the loading dock, fueled on adrenaline, excitement, and dread, I caught my first whiff of feminine pheromones.

Ladies, if you think you have a decent sense of self-control, if you think most men are pigs for ogling your woman parts, think again.

No matter how hard I tried, I could _not_ keep my stalk eyes to myself.

Now, since my mind was my own, I wasn't psychologically _attracted_ to this female, but the instincts of my male body were stronger than I'd ever imagined.

Within minutes, I'd given up even trying to maintain proper decorum. How did men put up with this ridiculous sex drive? Were they actually looking at _me_ the way I looked at every single passing girl?

I skidded around the corner of the ship, stalk eyes planted firmly on the haunches of a fuschia-hued female, just as the officer who'd "convinced" me to "leave" was making to shut the boarding hatch.

(Wait!) I called, finally ripping my gaze away from shapely feminine derrieres. The officer, who I'd later know as Officer Kentian-Tulit-Nestram, raised his hand against the sun's glare, squinted at me, then stormed out of the ship, puffed up in full warrior mode.

(Are you here to enlist?) He demanded in full swagger, clearly annoyed by my tardiness.

(Yes,) I answered, to which he grabbed me by my arm and hauled me on board the ship. The air no longer held the scent of woman—was I smelling myself pre-morph?—and my hormones immediately cooled.

Thank God.

(Timeliness is next to Godliness,) he snapped as I stumbled along behind him and tried not to scrabble my too-large hooves on the polished steel of the boarding dock. He paused long enough to close the hatch and then proceeded to drag me down a short hallway.

(I got a straggler!) He called, shoving me into a room shortly before the bridge. (I'll deal with you once we reach the Dome ship.)

Without another word, he shut the hatch, leaving me alone, standing awkwardly and staring at the other cadets waiting silently in the room. I felt, rather than heard, the engines come to life as we prepared to lift off.

The ship itself was small, only a limited-distance transport designed to take us to the dome ship, and a tiny room packed with several other cadets including, much to my dismay, Damonio, made my hearts beat faster. I'd later come to realize that intense claustrophobia was just part of the military experience.

(S_eerow's _blood_,_ where have they been keeping _you_?) Damonio asked rudely, giving me the once-over. Now that he wasn't in the presence of a superior, he was all puffed up and cocky once again. Actually, _all_ of them were giving me the fish eye.

Well, I _was_ pretty hidious, I'd give them that.

(A cave,) I said stoically, leaning against one blank white wall.

(I'll say,) another commented, snickering. (You look devolved enough.)

(Yep,) I answered. Although several snappy responses swam through my head, I'd already been in one fight today and had no intention of being in another, as much fun as that would be.

(Well at least Damonio won't be the only one in trouble,) Another kid spoke with a smirk. Out of one stalk eye, I saw the black-eyed jerk deflate just a little.

(Really? What'd you do?) This could be interesting.

(Tried to beat up a girl,) one of the youths crowed. Damonio shifted uncomfortably and pretended to study the seam where the wall met the ceiling. (She would have won, too, if she hadn't slammed into the ship.)

(Would not,) Damonio snapped, glaring venomously at the one who'd spoken.

(I don't know, you didn't land a hit on her until she ran into the ship.)

(You hit a girl?) I asked incredulously, trying to hide my self-deprecating tone. Playing the role of arrogant male was going to be tougher than I'd first thought.

(She deserved more than what she got, the insolent fool,) he muttered crossly.

(What'd she do?) I prompted, trying to appear nonchalant and failing. This was proving to be too much fun.

(_She_ wanted to join the academy,) one of the youths said gleefully before they all broke into laughter. (As if that would ever happen!)

(Our suns would simultaneously super nova before that happened!) Another chimed in. I had to hold back my smile—I would love to see their facial expressions if they ever discovered my true identity.

(It's a shame, though,) one of the cadets said casually. (She sure was something.)

(She had evasion skills, but I doubt she could land a decent hit on _me_ if she'd tried,) Damonio bristled, fingering the scratch on his shoulder. Now that it was no longer bleeding, it didn't look quite as impressive as when I'd first gotten him. (Did you see the size of her dainty little tail blade?)

(She was _feisty_,) the cadet clarified, his tone suggesting all kinds of improper things. (I'd have liked to have her pinned up against the ship too,)

I caught myself rolling my stalk eyes. Men.

(I'd take whatever punishment old Kentian had to offer for a little piece of that tail,) another said, nudging Damonio with his elbow. The ebon-eyed cadet simply shrugged and said nothing, still tending to the wounds of his fragile male ego.

I'd never been seriously interested in courtship rituals, and for the rest of the ride I was reminded why as they discussed the pros of allowing "the pretty little female" join the military academy... for all the wrong reasons.

Damonio maintained that women did not belong in the academy for _any_ reason. As I stood, closed-minded as to prevent any of my thoughts from projecting outward and betraying me, I realized that he hadn't joined in the ridiculous sexual innuendo, except to say that he didn't think I was pretty at all.

It shouldn't have bothered me, but it did.

((Author's Note: There! A whole new scene, and I fully intend to make this more interesting. Also, I've decided to update this story more frequently and make it more Andalite-esque, sooo if anyone would like to beta for me, please let me know!

metamorphstorm: This story is for you. You're the reason I update! Hahaha.. ;

Kaisong: That would be entertaining! I think I might have to integrate that idea, just not with anyone we've met as of yet.

Mrowrkat98: Here it is, finally. Hope you're still reading!))


	6. Thinking it through

Chapter 5: Poor Decisions

You never appreciate your center of gravity until you have it abruptly ripped away from you. Add that to perpetually shifting gravity, hooves that are much too heavy, shoulders much too wide, and you have one clumsy Andalite.

As a morph dancer, I was accustomed to adapting to a variety of unfamiliar shapes and forms in the blink of an eye; as a male of my species, I wasn't quite different enough to make me aware of my body or movements, but I WAS awkward enough to send my over-sized form sprawling as soon as I attempted to step off the transport vehicle and onto the grass of the Dome Ship's landing platform. My knees, scraped and bleeding, stung as I lifted myself haphazardly from the floor.

In spite of the raucous laughter of my fellows (_Gentlemen, he's ugly AND talented!)_, I had a more pressing problem; in seven minutes, unless I wanted to reveal myself (and be promptly shipped right back home to shame and scorn), I would become a nothlit and utterly useless to the academy.

My heart-rates were accelerating as I looked—desperate—for some way to conceal myself. We were in the dome of the ship-six cocky cadets looking across a large, rather shabby-looking sea-green field, cocooned by a sea of blackness and stars. There were smatterings of violet and azure trees scattered here and there, but nothing—nowhere—could I temporarily hide. Our need for open spaces and expanse coupled with an inexpensively adorned spacecraft would prove to be my undoing.

Maybe I should have thought this course of action through before charging blindly ahead.

(Cadets!) An older Andalite, streaked beige with age, galloped toward our platform, dust taken from our planet kicking up behind him in his wake. His tail blade was chipped with age, but gleamed a sharp edge in the brilliant, artificial light. Belatedly, I realized the other cadets were standing rigidly, saluting, all four eyes facing front unwaveringly. I'd been so busy scanning the surroundings that I'd failed to notice.

A heart-beat too late, I joined them in their stance as the male, obviously our superior, skidded to a halt in front of us, or more specifically, me.

Six minutes.

(There was a report of fighting at the loading bay. With a female.) He eyed me up and down and it was then that I noticed the wrinkled, puckered scar running vertically where his right eye once resided; the scrutiny of all three of his remaining orbs, stalks and main, was unbearably uncomfortable. (Care to explain, cadet?)

(Sir—there was… A female. I suspect-)

(Stop stalling, soldier. Explain.) He stated curtly. I hesitated. What was I supposed to say? I hadn't been there—well, not in my male form, at least. Although my fellows stood at attention, their mockery pressed at my back like a heavy chain, further impeding my words. The silence lengthened.

Five minutes.

(My Prince,) Damonio quipped in curt, respectful tones. Clearly, he had re-thought his strategy from earlier. Scar-face paused, nostrils flaring, then turned abruptly to face the out-spoken cadet. Stocky and solid, he strutted to face the exotic-faced youth. Stalk eyes swiveling, his visage mere inches from the boy's, I would have been relieved that his scrutiny had turned elsewhere had it not been for the time.

Four minutes.

(Commanding Officer Kent, and don't forget it,) he barked, harsh tones, with no ceremony.

(Sir,) Damonio bowed his head, as ceremony and rank demanded. (The doing was mine. I allowed myself to be provoked. I take full responsibility for the disturbance.)

(If a mere girl manages to provoke you into a fight, what good are you to our forces?) He snapped. By the way he stared at Damonio, the question wasn't rhetorical.

(I am top of my class in the _Patrechan_ art of—)

(Do you really think the Yeerks will be impressed with some fancy tail work?) He sneered. The withering look he leveled at Damonio, who I almost—ALMOST—felt sympathy for would have made a traditional male crumple—but not Damonio. He stood, straight as a tree and just as strong. And maybe just a touch smug.

(No, sir.) Damonio bowed his head, respectful, but uncowed. Any hints of his earlier, fiery demeanor had been effectively wiped from his countenance.

Three minutes. Three minutes away from being trapped, forever, in this disgusting, useless body. Adrenaline coursed through my veins and I fought the urge to run. The dome was literally miles of open space—yet I had never felt more caged.

(Let this be your first lesson—you must have more than hand-to-hand combat skills in this war. You must have cunning. Determination. Strength of character. Stealth. The simulations, flights, the hard, physical labor that you think has prepared you for your career at the academy? Nonsense, all of it. Be prepared to morph. Be prepared to infiltrate. Be prepared to out-think your enemy, _aristh_, because they're smarter every day. There's no turning back now—fail to learn, fail to thrive, and you'll be cleaning waste chambers. Your first candidate-) he jerked his powerful tail in Damonio's direction, clipping him with the flat of his blade along the side of his head. (-has already volunteered.)

Damonio, tail tucked, stepped forward only to be halted by a short slash of the commanding officer's hand.

(Not you. Taking responsibility is the first step to a successful career. This soldier, on the other hand…) Scar-face turned his wrathful eyes upon me. Again. Two minutes. My time was running out. (This soldier failed to report to an officer when commanded. The waste chambers are that way.) He pointed.

I stared, dumbly, at the man, unsure of what I was required to do. Tick tock. Tick tock. He snorted impatiently.

(Are you stupid as well as mute? Go!)

With the seconds ticking down, I needed no further prompting. Galloping and sweating, I took off in the direction of the chambers.

(The metal better reveal a handsome reflection when next I use it!) The officer called after me. I could feel the eyes of the other cadets boring into my rump, their silent scorn stinging like the bites of insects.

And that's how, with mere moments to spare, I stumbled into a filthy waste chamber and demorphed as fast as my cells would shift.

How could I possibly keep up this ridiculous charade?


End file.
